


Fight the Good Fight

by waldorph



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Related, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-01
Updated: 2008-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-02 23:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waldorph/pseuds/waldorph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby loves those boys, but trouble follows them around.  And apparently, so do angels.  Bobby & Castiel talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight the Good Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Written after 4x02, "Are You There, God? It's Me, Dean Winchester"

Wasn't that Bobby doesn't love the boys. God knows he does, like they're his own- kids he never got to have, kids demons stole from him when they took his wife.

Kids he and Jim raised just as much as John. Kids he tried to help.

But damn if they ain't the stupidest damn _idiots_ sometimes.

If Sam thinks he's hiding shit, he's outta his damn mind. That chick had lingered in that motel room. It'd been a while, but Bobby still knows what sex smelled like in a room. That chick wasn't quite _human_.

Chrissy his ass.

Try _Ruby_. Jesus H. Christ.

And now they got bigger problems, 'cause Dean's back, and he loves that boy, he does. Always felt for that kid: Sammy could shrug off anything John could throw at him- chip off the old stubborn goddamn block, but Dean?

That damn stupid boy. Shit always happens around Dean.

And now that stupid boy is havin' his whole damn world rocked around him.

Bobby sighs, drinks his Special Occassion Scotch. Apocalypse is nigh, better drink it while he's still got the body to enjoy it. Witnesses. They laid to rest the goddman Witnesses, him and the two boys.

Course, those two boys? Ain't nothin' they can't do. Hunters he's known for years have fallen in the face of things that Sam and Dean Winchester have wasted. An' it's not that they're a team. Most younger hunters these days are huntin' in pairs. Most older hunters hunt in pairs. You find someone to take out with you on a job if you ain't got someone to take regularly. Hunters have a good network, but that's not the point. Point is, huntin' duos been doin' it way longer than these two chuckleheads have bit the dust (or any manner of unpleasant endin's). These two?

They get bruised, beat- hell, they get _dead_, but they keep comin' back.

Gotta be a reason for it.

Jim woulda said was God's Will. God's gotta plan for their boys. Was nice, sorta. Back when it was he an' Jim tryin' to figure it all out, wonderin' at the fact that fifteen year old Dean had just wasted three angry ghosts and Sammy hadn't even flinched, just been ready on his brother's mark. Jim'd say somethin like, "God has a plan for the boys, Bobby. You know Dean told me that his mother told him angels watch over him? They must."

Bobby'd snort and say, "Yeah, well, they'd better be, cause those two got hell on their backs."

Jim would frown, and Bobby would roll his eyes, and Dean would inevitably tease Sammy into a hissy-fit, which would send Bobby after Dean and Jim after Sam. Division of labor was important.

Might be blasphemy, but Bobby wishes God would leave them alone.

"If He did, Dean would be in perdition still," a quiet voice remarks.

Bobby grabs his gun and aims, but the accountant from the barn just looks at him. Angel. Right. "An' don't think we're not grateful for that."

"That isn't the point. Your thanks is irrelevant."

"You gonna explain that piece?"

"You are not required at the End of Days," he explains seriously (and Bobby can hear the capital "E" and "D"), looking around at Bobby's books. "You will of course fight, Bobby Singer, and you will be welcome among us who rise up against Hell's armies, but you are not… critical."

"You got all the tact of Dean," Bobby snorts. "Speakin' of. I hear he's factorin' into your plans."

"Not my plans."

"Fine. His plans. You got that boy freaked out, an' only two things could ever ruffle Dean Winchester: Winchesters, and paternity suits." He's only half-joking. "You want him to fight for you? Great. But you are gonna hafta drag him kickin' and screamin' unless you change tactics, boy."

"I cannot force him to believe."

"You could talk to him."

"I am a soldier- "

"Yeah, and you're layin' seige to Dean. An' he don't ever respond kindly to that."

The angel looks downstairs.

"Ah. Figured that one out, didja?"

"He is…frightened and angry."

"It's end of days- that boy probably thinks you pulled him out only to have him get pushed back in."

"He provoked- "

"You _told him that_? What _are_ ya, completely _stupid_? Come on. Boy's angrier than most, has a track record of strugglin' with religion since he was four years old and a demon killed his mama, and you just told him he was headed back for the pit?"

"I dont' have time to play to his ego."

"You got the wrong brother you think he's got an ego. An' Sam'd be an easier sell! Shoot, Sam's believed since he was a baby, wants to believe. Dean's havin' an existential crisis and Sam's on board and pullin' out of the damn station. You want to really get to Dean? Might start workin' Sam over."

Something flickers in the angel's eyes. Bobby narrows his own.

"What?" he demands sharply.

"It is not for us to know. We are soldiers, and Dean is one of us. I would promise him heaven if I thought it would sway him easier."

"Just promise?"

"I am not in the habit of making false promises. Lying is a sin."

"Well. That's somethin', anyway."

"You are a good man, Bobby Singer."

Bobby wakes up, hears sounds of cookin' downstairs, old rock hummin', Sam's voice and Dean's indistinguishable rumble replying.

"You better send that boy to heaven," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. Damnit, he is too old to be fallin' asleep in those chairs. "And Sammy too. They both deserve it."

Problem is, he's got a nasty feelin' that come Judgement day the demons will have their Boy King, and Dean will be the one to put him down.


End file.
